Work Text:
Seriously… how can anyone count on you for anything?
Phoenix’ eyes fling open, a sharp breath bringing him back to reality as he wakes up. A dream. A nightmare. Just another one. How can anyone count on you?
Phoenix breathes in and out calmly and glances at the clock radio on his bedside table. The digits are buried behind stacks of paper, notes from classes Phoenix went to but can hardly remember anything about.
He’s trying to take up law— trying being the key word. So far, he’s not doing a great job. When Phoenix thinks about having clients one day, people who will rely on him to prove them innocent and will literally put their lives in his hands, he feels sick.
How can anyone count on you for anything?
Phoenix shivers and tries to place the stack of papers somewhere else, which only results in the stack magistrally dropping to the floor. As he glances at the scattered pages, Phoenix hopes he’s numbered them (he knows he hasn’t).
It’s well into the night. 3 in the morning. At this hour, it has to be your liver, Dollie would say. Are you worried about something?
Dollie. Phoenix still can’t believe it was the same Dollie he knew in court. It hurts to know you’re useless. It hurts even more to be told so by the person most important to you. Phoenix knows he has a tendency to latch onto people. Once he loves someone, he doesn’t let go. He moves mountains if needed, even if he hardly succeeds.
How can anyone count on you? Phoenix swallows the lump in his throat, rubs his teary eyes, wills the echo to go away. How can anyone count on you?
Edgeworth. He’ll help Edgeworth. Phoenix doesn’t have time to think about Dollie— Dahlia. Neither does he want to. Right now, in his life, there is only Law. No room for anything else other than getting his degree and passing the bar. He needs to get on track. He needs it like he needs oxygen, perhaps even more. Then, people will count on me. They will be able to count on me.
So, Phoenix lights up the lamp, grabs a handful of papers, and peers over his notes.
It must interest him beyond reason because he is woken up at 10 by his phone ringing, blinding sunlight in the room (who forgot to close the blinds last night? that’s Feenie, of course), and a sore throat from breathing in the cold. Great. Just great.
Phoenix reaches for his mobile phone and grumbles a ‘hello’ that doesn’t even hide he just woke up.
“Hello, Phoenix? It’s Mia.”
“Oh! Ms. Fey! Hi!”
“Please call me Mia?”
“Okay Ms.— Mia.”
“You sound sick, are you alright?”
“Yes! Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
Phoenix starts getting ready, which mostly consists of trying to tidy up his classes’ notes, checking when he has classes today, if he has completed all the required assignments and just generally tripping on everything he’s left untidied on his bedroom floor.
Ms. Fey defended him a few months ago in court. She was dashing, a ground-breaking lawyer, the kind Phoenix aspires to become one day. When he learned it was only her second case, his admiration only grew and he practically begged her to help him go through his law degree— which, so far, she has. No matter the question he has, no matter the subject, she always has an answer. No matter the hour too.
“Are you sure?” Mia asks.
“Yes, fine. Just woke up, that’s all.”
“...well, okay then.”
“You were calling for a reason?”
“Yes, but maybe you’d better rest today, alright?”
“No! Wait! What is it?”
“Um… ah, it’s embarrassing, really. Are you free today?”
“Today? Uh…” Phoenix glances at his schedule. Well, he had class an hour ago, but it’s too late to even attempt rushing to Ivy now. The rest of his day is relatively clear. He has a few assignments to hand out tomorrow, though, but hey, he still has the entire night for this, doesn’t he?
“I don’t have anything planned. Why?”
“I might need your help.”
That switches something in Phoenix. He’s ready to drop everything. He’s ready to jump right into it.
Mia continues, “I’m moving into my new office today, and the movers all caught the flu. The manager is very sorry, but sadly they don’t have any other team and I can’t find any other company available for the day. I can’t postpone the move and—”
“I’ll help!”
“Really?”
“Of course! Of course, Ms. Fey! I’ll be right here!”
“Wait, Phoenix! You don’t even know where—”
He hangs up. Ten minutes later, he calls Mia back to sheepishly ask for the address. Mia only laughs and chides him softly. Always softly, no matter how annoyed she can be at him.
“I’ll be right here,” Phoenix says after scribbling down the place. And he adds, as much for him as for her, “You can count on me.”